The Draft
by Acromania
Summary: ONESHOT. [Draft for The Office series] Her thoughts tumble while he comes to a decision. AU. SMUT. Don't like, don't read. Eris


_**A/N:** Hello everyone. I know some of you are waiting for the last and final part in the office series. I am working on it! Eric's POV after such a long time is difficult to grasp, especially because I am not the person anymore that started to write the series. To give you something - anything really - I want to show you what should have been the last part, but really isn't. Call it my service for you because I loved every review I got and getting a notification that someone added me to her or his favorit or started to follow always made/makes my day. So thank you!_

 _ **Warning:** This isn't beta-ed yet._

 _ **Disclaimer:** I own nothing, Veronica Roth does._

 _ **Note:** This isn't a standalone. It is a draft I made while working on the Office Series - a series of oneshots with lots of SMUT but story. To get a feel for when this is: Shortly after **the Conference Room**._

* * *

I lay on my too big bed in my loft, staring at the ceiling because watching TV or a movie doesn't help me to forget about anything, reminding me painfully how deeply I feel about my ex-boss with too romantic and cliche flicks playing 24/7 because of the holidays. Not even the funny ones can stop the sharp clearity to enter my mind that I won't have him, ever – at least not the way I always was afraid to admit I want.

I want him as the boyfriend to keep me grounded and warm, who gives me one look to show me I overreact, rolls his eyes – glinting with amusement and affection – at my over the top behavior because my favorit actor released a new movie. Who would watch this movie with me because he is slightly jealous that my cheeks flush when I see the actor shirtless, grips my hand in the darkness of the cinema to remind me, that he is the one I should fawn over and I would. I would cook for him because he doesn't seem to care for it and he would look at me with this knowing glint in his eyes that tells me he appreciates my overbearing way of making sure he eats enough.

I want him as the husband who buys me flowers when he messed up with one of his cold displays or was late to a date we have to plan then because our time schedules are packed with work, time away from each other we enjoy really much and need sometimes and not letting friends down who we promised to help with one thing or another. As a husband who would make up for the missed date with a day in bed celebrating some stupid holiday we both know he came up with just to spoil me with kisses and touches and eating between the sheets and we both wouldn't care about the crumbs on the fabric because we just would occupy the other side of the bed, sleeping, dozing, having sex. And he would dominate my body and mind to not let his sweet gesture get to my head making clear that beside the soft spot he has for me he is still the man I fall in love with when I started working for him.

I want him as the father of our children, standing imposing and tall in the hospital room, his grey eyes fixed on me and the small bundle in my arms, his face turned into a grimace because he doesn't know what he should feel, what would be appropriated. And maybe it would be too much for him for a moment, with him lashing out at the nurse who let something unimportant like the nametag drop, before I would take his hand and lay it on top of the head of our baby boy or baby girl. The father that tells me that I am still beautiful even though I gained a few pounds and rolls his eyes at my complaints in front of our bedroom mirror, showing me how much he still enjoys my body in the late hours of the night. As the father that protects his children fiercly and doesn't take shit from teachers or trainers, being the first to stand up even though the other parents always point out to me that he seems so distant and cold to what I would just smile knowingly because I would know how much he loves all of us and can't show.

I feel a tear slip down my cheek, brushing it away indignantly. I know I should have stopped all of this – my feelings right from the start and the sex two weeks ago – the night he came back from Seattle, should have said that I can't be the woman he goes to to get laid, but I couldn't because just having this small part of him seemed to be enough, worth the pain and hurt. But it isn't. It wouldn't be enough no matter what and I feel stupid but calm at the same time because it took me so long to be honest with myself and honest with this situation.

I think even if I wouldn't have been in love with him for so long already I probably would be now after the touches shared, the words whispered and the affection I am sure he didn't even want to show me. I smile a ruefull smile at the realisation. I know I could continue playing the woman he obviously wants me to be, could pretend nothing within me longs for more than sex with my ex-boss, could decide to just be happy with what I get. But it would be like treason to myself and I am not some 16 year old girl anymore. I am not that person and I think he already knows it as well.

I turn around and even though I changed the sheets two times now to stop my mind from remembering his touches and the way he looked at me, I still imagine him here next to me, his smell in my sheets, the way he pulled me towards him when we both went to sleep. I feel my eyes prickle and an ugly sigh with too many emotions in it leaves my throat. I press my hand against my mouth to stiffle the raising sobs, to stop myself from crying for a man that I want to think is a coward for not risking it but can't. I know him too good for that, for blaming him for this whole situation, for blaming him for feeling hurt.

Of course he is the one who decided to not enter a serious relationship. Of course he is the one who decided for both of us where this leads. He took away my right to make a conscious decision about it and maybe he was afraid at least a bit himself. I should feel good for taking away something from him when I annouced my departure from Dauntless, should feel relaxed now that after his decision I made a decision for myself, stood up for myself, but I don't. I know I am not a female that lets a man run all over her and I am proud mostly about it. But I also know that he isn't just any man but my heart, the one I pictured my life with.

* * *

I halt my movements, spoon in my mouth to taste the tomato souce I made to occupy my hands and to stop running circles in my mind when I hear a knock on the door. I know that Chris and Peter won't be here for another two hours to drag me to the new year's party. Seriously, I would have liked to stay at home, listening to some music and reading a book, celebrating far from my mind and how could a new year change the things that lead down to this point?

Cleaning my hands and running them through my hair afterwards I make my way over to the door, not caring that I only wear an old shirt with too many holes in it or ugly sweatpants with paint on my behind were Tobias once placed his hand when we redecorated our apartment when I was still in college. I open the door slowly, inquiring glint in my eyes that vanishes as soon as I see the person behind the wooden barrier.

"Can I come in?" He asks, voice serious but face neutral. I bite the inside of my cheek, avert my eyes because I am not sure how to feel about his sudden appearance but take a step back to let him in anyway. I am torn between feeling rational about the situation and being too weak to just shut him out because it would be the right thing to do. There isn't anything left to say anyway.

His tall figure stands in the middle of my loft, his eyes darting from my messy coffee table to my not yet made bed but I don't feel self-conscious about the chaos that is my home. It's the way I am, slightly chaotic, a bit dusty with old furniture I couldn't part from even though the payment would have allowed me to buy new things a long time ago, a light scent of homemade food in the air, sunbeams glistening through my snowcovered windows. I try to fix my eyes on it or on anything really to stop them from staring at his broad tense shoulders, as always dressed professional even though the holidays are already a few days in swing.

I bite my lip again, my hands unconsciously pulling my hair back into a messy bun and I would have laughed at my own act like I am preparing for battle if the silence around us wouldn't stop me from it. It's laced with confusion and uncertainty from me and a hot determination from him. He should know I won't come back and he should know that I don't have anything to say anymore. Maybe I should tell him so again, maybe should point out that I am on my way to be over him sometime in the future to let him know that I respect his decision even though it hurt me. I speak up and am proud when I sound strong and even a bit indifferent.

"What can I do for you? If this is about work, I would have send you the final documents-"

"I can't let you leave." Eric says, turning around and fixes his eyes on me.

"Well, it isn't your choice really." I answer him, crossing my arms over my chest to keep myself together, to not let the raising feelings control my words or the way I react to him. It was the right decision to go, I tell myself but feel the complete opposite. If only I could stop my heart from beating so fast in my ribcage in response to the way he looks at me, in response to the light that dresses him in brightness and shadows, letting him appear to be unreachable and like the hero from old tales. I know he isn't, not in the normal sense because if anything he is the antagonist of any story, a bit twisted, a bit dark but with a good heart all in all.

If only I could stop my hands from slightly shaking both because I want to reach out to him and to push him out of my frontdoor at the same time. If only I could understand the urge to go over to him even though I decided I won't. If only I could make my heart cooperate with my mind, my body really because even though I am sure about leaving him and the things between us alone, I feel the physical reaction to his presence just by looking at him from a few meters away. There are too many _If only_ in my mind.

"Tris." He says and I stop staring at his chest and shoulders, at his arms and neck. I squint my eyes close for a moment and I know I should have suppressed it because it gives away so much more than I want to. His eyes bore into mine, grey meeting grey-blue but this time it isn't in passion or affection or sharing the high after an orgasm. It is in a sort of stand off, if against each other, if against the feelings within me and his feelings within him, if against the distance between us, I don't know. I know though that he has to feel at least a bit helpless because he can't control my mind like he seems to control my body with just small touches because he narrows his eyes, his hands clench into fists and I am aware then that he won't go without a fight I am not ready for. I feel tired suddenly and a bit annoyed with myself and with him.

"As I was about to say, I will send you the documents as soon as I have finished everything. I will give Peter a manual for your next secretary and I -" I am cut off again, but this time physically when he pulls me into his arms and kisses me. I am angry that he oversteps my quite visible line and push him away even though it hurts.

"Eric, stop it. You can't just come here and ... you just can't, ok?" I tell him, my eyes blazing with seriousness. He looks angry now as well and I don't care really, don't back down when his stare intensifies.

"You are a coward." He says and I feel my mouth pull into a hard line because he is one to talk. He is biased and unfair and so wrong. I can't believe him for a moment but try to keep my temper in check. Eric already got enough of me, I tell myself, remember Peter's speech and Chris' encouraging words, telling me to be the woman I was before this mess of a situation started.

"Oh, do tell me why I am." I answer him, crossing my arms over my chest. His grey eyes are cold and hard, but hot and soft at the same time and I marvel at his reactions, at the things I see, the contradiction he is. My high and my downfall.

"You quit." Is all he presses out through his teeth and I scoff at him.

"It is the right thing to do. I won't be the woman that..." Eric interrupts me again, takes a step forward. I don't take a step back, won't give him the satisfaction of more reactions he can easily trigger from me.

"What woman? That fucks her boss?" _He knows about my talk with Tobias_ , I realize and smile a painful little smile at his attempt to be brash with me, to maybe bring me down.

"No, I won't be the woman that is desperatly in love with you and will take anything from you when it is at least a resemblance of the things I really want." I tell him, voice calm in contradiction to the things I feel and his grey eyes widen slightly before they are their normal size again. I see his jaw working hard and feel satisfaction raise within me that he seems to be slightly taken aback. Maybe he didn't count on me to be this open with my feelings for him, to finally say it out loud.

"What do you want, Tris?" He asks, his voice layered with too many emotions for me to grasp.

"I want everything." I easily reply, even going so far as to shrug. He averts his eyes then, teeth probably grit hard and I am not sure what I expect him to say next.

"Ok." I stare at him, my eyes widen with every passing second.

"Ok?" I ask only just above a whisper, the two letters leaving my mouth with a hard breath.

"If that's what it takes to keep you with me, I will give you everything and I hope you are up to it." His grey eyes are smoldering and I think that maybe I have fallen asleep, my meal burning on the stove and I dream. But when he touches me it all feels so damn real and I find myself wishing to not wake up just now.

His lips press against mine and the kiss isn't loaded with passion and the need for each other but soft and caring and I feel my eyes prickle with tears.

* * *

 _A/N: And here the draft ends. This is filled with cliche and insufferable fluffyness. Not my style, but sweet nonetheless, I guess. Hope you enjoyed it and are up to a bit more waiting until the end of the Series is posted. As always: Read and Review please!_


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